Tuesday, January 31, 2012

a raised line

Hand me your breath,
and your curled hair in mid-winter
down by the harbor,
I can see black shimmer through almost-opaque glass.
A single wavelength, and I find a second in
the orange sea.
And weave through me the lattice of your heart.
Stars descend,
and clap their molecules.
Noisily shatter,
create a fire-sky.

No comments: